


Monday Morning Blues

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey, the GazettE
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Explicit Language, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-02
Updated: 2008-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reita's got the Monday morning blues. But his blues aren't like anyone else's, his involve his sometimes lover, Die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday Morning Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 50stories and for prompt 027: Monday for y!weekly and for prompt_rotation Prompt: 0001: Misconception.

It's Monday morning... I hate Mondays. While most people hate Mondays and this may seem normal, my reason is so much different from theirs. I hate Mondays because I have to leave _him_.

I've been with Die for a little over a year now. One would think this is a great thing or even the best damn thing in the world! Sadly, it's little more than a Sunday night fuck.

It started late one Saturday night after we'd gone out clubbing together. We always went as friends and we usually ended up leaving with someone else. On the rare nights that both of us ended up still single, we'd head back to one of our apartments and spend the rest of the night sipping water and comparing stories from the night.

On that particular night, I was significantly more trashed than usual. Now, something about me, when I get that drunk, everything I hide all the time shows itself. Painfully pathetic, I know. One of the things I hide the most is the fact that I'm bisexual. Yup, that's right, I love men and women equally. And, to be honest, Die's fucking hot.

That night, I'd been almost desperate to hook up with someone. I just needed the emotional and physical release that a good screw provides. Luck seemed to not be on my side though. I'd hit on quite a few people and either gotten turned down or brushed off. Maybe I was aiming too high, who knows.

But, in any case, there I was, sitting on Die's new burgundy leather couch, inches away from him... and horny as all hell. I guess something in me just snapped; some small rational piece broke off and abandoned me. Before I even really thought about what I was doing, I had a fist full of Die's hair in one hand, his cheek cupped in the other, and my hungry mouth was devouring his.

Honestly, it surprised me that he didn't even try to pull away. Instead, he returned my kiss with equal fervor; almost as though he were as desperate as me. It was all over for me the instant his tongue invaded my mouth. There was no turning back. Every sexual secret I'd ever kept culminated and overflowed as he laid me back on the sofa and covered my body with his. I'd wanted him for years, ever since we first met. But as far as I'd known, he was straighter than an arrow.

I kept waiting on him to pull away and laugh, saying he'd caught me and now my secret was out. But that never happened. Instead, he kept taking it further and further, and I followed blindly along, wanting him bad enough that I'd accept whatever the consequences turned out to be.

It was odd, almost as though we already knew all the right places to touch one another, every move to make in order to shove the other higher. My nerves faded away, leaving only my normal self in place. That alone was all we needed to end up shirtless and pressed against each other; our sweaty, needy bodies wrapped around one another. I was already hard, not overly surprising really, but still a slight shock to Die when his hand snaked into my pants. Maybe he expected a cruel joke as well. I'll never know. I didn't ask. All I could do was hang on for the ride, wherever that might take me and just _feel_.

It wasn't long before he had me completely naked beneath him, writhing in pleasure. The way his hand stroked my cock, the way his fingers brushed all the right spots deep within me... bliss, complete and total bliss. It was all too perfect, too beautiful to be true. I should have known that it was. I should have seen the warning written in his eyes, but I didn't. To him, this was going to be a fuck, a great one, but just a fuck. No strings attached, no regrets, and most of all, none of the emotions I've come to associate with what we do every week.

In reality, I'm not sure if I regret what I started or not. On one hand, at least I have consistency in a lover for most of the year. But on the other, I long for something deeper, more meaningful... for something I can't have. To this day, I'm not sure why he screws my brains out once a week. I guess all I can know is why I've always come back for it and always will.

My eyes roam sadly over firmly chiseled features, over his naked expanse of skin and my heart clenches painfully in my chest. I wish... I wish he could be mine. Not just mine to touch and hold once a week, but mine every day, in every way. I know I'm hoping for something that is impossible, but I can't seem to help it anymore. I can't honestly say I'm happy with how things are anymore, not like I used to be able to.

My fingers seem to have a mind of their own, reaching out and stroking down his neck to the hollow at his throat. I lean in and gently kiss his pliant lips, wishing like hell he wasn't asleep and I could actually say good morning rather than trying to sneak out before he wakes like I always do. But I know that my emotions would show far too much if we actually saw each other in the mornings these days. Four months ago, it'd have been fine... in fact, it was fine. But I just can't do this anymore.

I've been trying to quit him for well over a month now. Just not come back the next time. But I can't convince myself it's the right thing to do. I want him, my body wants him... and he wants me. But the heartache... it has become too much.

Tears form in my eyes and I stand up and pull my jeans on as quietly as I can. How many more times can I repeat this? How many more days can I break myself in half just to have him to myself for a few measly hours? The answer is almost written in huge letters in the air above me; tangible. I'll keep doing this forever. Why? Because I love him. I didn't mean to fall in love with him, I really didn't. But I have and it seems to be irreversible. My heart will apparently have its way.

I pull my shirt off the floor and begin to tug it over my head. It's halfway over my head when I feel his arms slide around me. I never even heard him move; goddamned sneaky bastard. My breath catches harshly in my throat and I tremble at his touch, my barely held back tears falling freely down my cheeks as I tug my shirt the rest of the way over my head.

I try to hide behind my hair, but he turns me around and pulls me flush against him. His thumb swipes over my cheeks, picking up the dampness of my tears as his eyes search mine.

"You always leave so early these days.... Is this why?"

There's concern written on his features and a glossy sheen to his own eyes as he stares me down. I can't lie to him like this. Something inside of me just won't let that happen. Slowly I nod and then shrug. "Kind of."

"What's the rest then?"

I shake my head and try to pull away, but his grip is far too tight, as if he knew I'd try to run. I still myself and lean forward to let my head rest on his shoulder. My lips form the words I know I have to say, the words I know will break everything between us, and I can hardly believe I'm saying them. "I want more than this, than what we have. I... I love you, Die."

He's silent for a moment and I almost think he's going to send me away, but then he just pulls me with him as he flops down on the bed and begins to laugh. I'm lost, confused, and slightly pissed. What the hell is he laughing at me for? Freaking out, I can understand, but laughing? I struggle to get away, but he pulls me as close as he can and holds on for dear life.

After a minute he calms down and buries his nose in my hair for a moment. Pulling back, he grins as he looks into my eyes. "Rei, baby, you've got it all wrong. Something's gotten lost between us." His eyes are somber, but still sparkling with that ever present glitter. "What exactly do you think we have?"

I shrug slightly. "I dunno..."

"Just be blunt with me. What do you think we have?"

"We fuck, once a week. And we're friends. That's about the sum of it."

He tilts my chin up and gently kisses me. Ever so slowly it evolves into something more than a simple kiss. It's like he's purposely not holding back anything this time, as if his every emotion is flowing from inside of him and into me. My entire body feels like it's on fire, but not with lust or passion. It's something else... knowledge. Knowledge that I've taken it all wrong. Knowledge that what we've left unspoken should have been discussed months ago. Knowledge that I'm not alone in what I want or how I feel.

Slowly he pulls away, his arms still holding me close, but no longer with an iron grip. I'm free to run now if that's what I want to do. But it's the last thing I want at this point. I threw the pitch and he hit it with perfect accuracy. Best of all, we're on the same team, so no one loses in this game.

I smile hesitantly at him and he grins back at me.

"I wouldn't do this every week if I didn't have feelings beyond fuck-buddy for you, Rei. It's as simple as that."

My voice comes out choked and far lower than I intend, but I know he can still understand. "Then tell me..."

He leans in and presses his lips ever so lightly to my ear. "You're the only one I'm with. Everything you want is right here. It's been yours all along."

I shudder against him, the words sinking in and a thrill running through me. He's mine. He's always been mine. That and that alone is all I ever needed to know.

And just like that, I'm set free from my every worry. A warm blanket of security wraps around me and I know this is it. I'm his and he is mine, and I'll never ever let go.


End file.
